i will speak of my bike as she, as this is the way we speak and therefore think about bikes in latin languages.

today is the day i see the iñibike (my bike) for the last time. she has spent one and a half years with me, bringing me here and there from one side to the other of the bay, carrying me uphill all over the slopes of the city, always faithful, humble servant, and colleague for adventures too when needed. today is the day i lock her to a street lamp in the train station. i know i should have not brought her here, but let her rest at Powell with market instead, as usual. but chance, and my own lack of anticipation too, brought us both here together, and forced me to leave her in this dark corner of the city tonight. i lock her knowing that the chances she will be stolen are high, despite she is lame, blind and one arm. and despite this, and all these years of sincere loyalty, i decide to take my bet and play the russian rulette. i tell her bye bye, perhaps i’ll see you again, o perhaps not.

a week later i will go looking for her, and indeed, she will be gone already.